


Talk Fast

by quicksilvrs



Series: Chronicles of The Broken [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friend Wanda Maximoff, Bisexual Wanda Maximoff, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, How Do I Tag, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Character, Past Sexual Assault, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, References to Depression, Rivalry, Secret Crush, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvrs/pseuds/quicksilvrs
Summary: In which Dahlia McDeen only signed up to get revenge on Tony Stark, everything that followed was purely fate. . .
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Original Female Character(s), Wanda Maximoff/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Chronicles of The Broken [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760935
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, the prologue kinda sucks but I don't wanna change it :)

**PROLOGUE**

SOKOVIA, 2005

_"Matka? Otec? Čo sa deje? Budeme v poriadku? [Mother? Father? What's happening? Are we going to be okay?]" A ten-year-old Dahlia cried out, her voice shaking just as their apartment complex did. Her small arms clung tightly around her mother, she vowed to never let her go. Her youthful mind, which should've been full of happy and carefree thoughts was clouded with ones along the lines of_ am I going to die? _It was the most frightening thought for a small child; hell, it was frightening for anyone, really._

_Her mother spoke calmly over the distant screams of their neighbours, "Áno. [Yes]" She pulled her only child close, running her boney fingers through the girl's stunning ebony hair. One thing was clear to Aurora McDeen: no matter what happened, Dahlia_ had _to survive this. There was no way in hell she'd let her child die_ ** _——_** _Aurora would die a million times over before that could even be a possibility. "Všetko bude v poriadku_ ** _——_** _budeš v poriadku. [Everything will be okay_ ** _——_** _you're going to be okay.]_

_Dahlia nodded slowly, a fraction of her youthful innocent naivety returning; if her mother said everything was going to be okay then it would. Her mother never ever lied to her._ Everything was going to be okay. . .

_And as if on cue, another violent tremor tore through the apartment complex, recording even more whimpers and screams in response. Dahlia's father was crouched on the floor across the room, she watched as his knuckles turned white as he attempted to hold himself up via the kitchen sink. Unfortunately, his grip wasn't quite strong enough. Realisation but Dahlia like a truck as she watched him fall through the floor that Dahlia had once played upon. "Otec! [Father!]" She cried out helplessly, trying to lunge forward but only to be held back by her mother._

_Dahlia felt a hot tear drip on the back of her neck and she looked up at her mother solemnly, tears glistening in the corners of both their eyes. "Zostaň späť; nechcem, aby si tiež, padal. [Stay back; I don't want you falling, too.]_

_Dahlia felt her mothers grip on her tighten, pulling her into an embrace that made her safe. She didn't want her daughter to look at the hole her father had just fallen to his death in any longer_ **_——_ ** _hell, she didn't want to look at it any longer. "Budem sa na teba pomstiť, Tony Stark. S týmto sa nedostanete preč. [I'll have my revenge on you, Tony Stark. You will not get away with this.]" Dahlia heard her whisper under her breath, though Dahlia didn't recognise the name at the time, she still remembered it in years to come._

_Taking her mothers muttering as a cue, Dahlia let out another choked sob as she buried her face deeper into her mother's chest. Suddenly, there was another loud crash and Dahlia felt herself being flung across the room. She landed in front of the kitchen table and upon some instinct, she crawled under it. Flicking her black hair out of her face, she looked across at her mother with wide, scared eyes._

_Aurora stood in place, accepting her death; she knew it was about to happen. As if Dahlia knows this, the girl goes to stand up but is quickly stopped by her mother. "Stop! Nehýb sa! [Stop! Don't move!]" She shouted, her eyes flickering to the ground that began to shake violently again. "Sľub mi, že zostaneš v bezpečí. [Promise me you'll stay safe.] She asks sternly, her voice breaking off at the end._

_"A čo ty? [What about you?] Dahlia cries, as she watches her mother grab hold of a kitchen counter, trying to steady herself. She knew that she had mere seconds left with her mother._

_"Sľub mi,_ _môj anjel. [Promise me, my angel.]" Aurora persisted, her face red as she sobbed. All she wanted was to hold her little girl and tell her everything would be okay_ **_——_ ** _that mummy isn't going anywhere. But that would be a lie and Aurora hated lying._

_"Sľubujem. [I promise]" Dahlia whispered just as the floor finally gave way. She clamped her hands over her ears and jammed her eyes shut, trying to block out Aurora McDeens untimely death. Unfortunately, the helpless look in her eyes and the even more hopeless screams would forever haunt the girl._


	2. Chapter One - Not The Bad Boys Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, we are introduced to our feisty main character and her complicated relationship with a certain Maximoff.

**Chapter One - Not The Bad Boys Girl**

**(** SOKOVIA, 2014 **)**   
  


**_DAHLIA MCDEEN HATED THIEVES_** with a burning passion _._ She beloved that they were rotten and no good.Nothing good ever came from a man who was willing to take things that didn't belong to him, her grandmother had told her. And no matter their differences, Dahlia had to agree with her grandma here. **(** This was basically the _only_ view they shared. **)** Bad boys didn't catch her eye anymore **——** if anything they repulsed her. **(** Like, come on, criminals and bad guys are romanticised way too much in today's media **——** it's honestly disturbing, Dahlia thinks. **)**

So, why has she gone off on this tangent? Well, she caught Pietro Maximoff **(** the asshole that he is **)** carrying one of her mothers old dresses out of her property and she was fucking furious about it. She knew of his _business_ ** _——_** if you could even call it that **——** but she had never expected to be a victim of it. **(** Okay, maybe she thought the purpose behind it was pretty sweet and Robin Hood-esque but suddenly he'd lost all those brownie points he didn't even know he'd had. **)** How he had not been shot or arrested for it was far beyond her.

It was a warm morning, the sun was out and it was quite hot but not unbearable **——** just the way Dahlia liked it. Dahlia had just gotten home from the markets, a bag of fresh groceries was hanging off her arm as she unlatched the gate. She let out a happy sigh as a cool gust of wind blew through her long dark hair. She had been humming a happy tune to herself as she closed the gate behind her **——** it had been one of those days where she felt good, they were rare and she loved it when they happened **(** what she didn't love was an evil twin ruining it for her. **)**

Her eyes widened when she saw him, a familiar violet dress slung over his shoulder and a cardboard box under his arm. She could spot his annoying mop of brown hair from a mile away. Huffing angrily, she tossed her groceries down on the footpath and stormed over to him.

His head snapped towards her direction and his piercing blue eyes widened. The corners of his lips turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking, waiting for her to approach instead. _That arrogant prick!_

"What is the meaning of this, Maximoff?" She demanded, attempting to snatch the violet dress out of his hands. Unfortunately, Pietro had always been too fast for her so he evaded her easily. He raised his eyebrows and even had the audacity to grin at her.

"Early morning shopping?" He suggested, his tone was light and playful as he held the dress out of her reach. Dahlia didn't even care about the box of knick-knacks he'd taken **——** for all she cared he could keep them. But the dress was a different story. It was the dress her mother had married her father in, the one Aurora had promised Dahlia could wear at her own wedding if she'd wished **(** of course little Dahlia had said yes, it looked like a princess dress after all. **)**

"Out of _my house_?" Dahlia seethed, grinding her teeth together. Her ebony hair kept falling in her face due to the wind. Sometimes she wished that she could control the wind, it would make moments like this easier to deal with. If she could control the wind, she could've easily blown the dress out of Pietro's grasp and then blown him off the nearest cliff. Okay, Dahlia didn't usually think such violent thoughts but that was the thing about Pietro Maximoff, he always managed to get right under her skin and bring out her worst. It wasn't always like that, there was a time he might've even brought out her best. . . but we were well and truly past that now.

Pietro shrugged, "isn't it your grand-mothers house?" He remarked and the young woman glared at him. Dahlia was in no mood for his witty comments. In fact, she was never in the mood for them anymore. He thought he was _so good,_ making money by stealing from people **——** too fast for anyone to catch. Well, if he got shot or arrested Dahlia would most definitely not pity him. She would take pity in his sister, Wanda because at least she had a heart. Pietro had proven time and time again that he had no heart **——** well, towards her anyways. . . She tries not to think about all the people his stupid business had actually helped **——** she didn't need that kind of negativity right now.

Dahlia narrowed her eyes at him. "That's hardly the point," She growled, her little patience for the young man was wearing thin. She reached up on her tip-toes, attempting to grab the dress again. Why must she be so short and he so tall? Life just wasn't fair in that respect **(** or any respect. **)**

"Give me the dress and I'll consider not calling the _polícia_." Her Eastern European accent seemingly becoming thicker, this usually happened when she was angry. **(** When she was _really mad,_ she'd start screaming in Sokovian. . . honestly, she was nearing that level of anger. **)**

"Why do you need it? I haven't seen you wear a dress in _years._ " Was Pietro's snarky comment, his eyes raked up and down her body. Sure, he'd _love_ to see her in a dress **——** preferably a short, tight one. Instead, she was wearing a pair of worn black skinny jeans and a grey t-shirt that was at least two sizes too big. Fashion was never her priority, putting food on the table for her and her grandmother was.

That was one of her reasons for quitting high school in order to work two jobs **(** plus whatever other odd jobs she could find. **)** Sure, she'd love to finish school but that just wasn't an option for her anymore. Maybe one day, after her grandmother passes away. . . but Dahlia feels horrible even thinking things like that. Sure, her and her grandmother argue more than they do anything else but that didn't mean she hated her or anything. It was just strong loving annoyance **——** Dahlias sure that's a real thing.

Pietro's comment caused Dahlia's temper to finally boil over the edge; "AK MUSÍTE VEDIŤ, BOLI MOJE MATKY . . . AKO: PREČO BY MOHLI BYŤ VECI, AK SI PRIPOJIEM? JE MINE A NEMÁTE SI PRÁVO VÁM! [ _If you must know, it was my mothers. . . also: why should it matter if I wear it? It is mine and you have no right taking it!]_ " She waved her arms in the air madly as she spoke and her hair blew around madly, making her look almost dangerous. **(** In any other moment Pietro would comment on how hot she looked. **)**

Pietro's eyes widened and he felt his stomach do a guilty backflip. How could he have been so insensitive? After everything that's happened, how could he forget that Dahlia lost her parents in the same explosion he and Wanda lost theirs? Maybe _forgot_ isn't the right word but Pietro doesn't really want to sit and discuss wording choices right now. Right now he felt like a horrible person **——** he always felt like that when he hurt her which he seemed to have a bad habit of doing nowadays.

Once upon a time, the Maximoff and McDeen families had been close. Family dinners every Friday night. Their parents had met at the same school Dahlia, Pietro and Wanda used to attend. After school they were still close, their fathers working for the same company and even moving into the same apartment building. Their parents' closeness had meant that their children saw a lot of each other. Back then, Pietro and Dahlia had sort of been friends **——** maybe even more eventually. But after what Pietro did to her, all her feelings for him evaporated. And his for her? Well, as far as Dahlia was concerned, they never existed.

"I **——** I'm so sorry." Pietro said quickly handing her the dress back and offering her the box. She snatched it out of his hands, flattening out some creases before turning back to the house.

"No, you're just guilty." She said coldly before closing the door. 

  
Once the door was shut, she let her back slide down it until she was curled in a ball on the floor.

_Don't cry. Don't cry._

The words repeated in her head, over and over again like a mantra. Dahlia hated crying **——** she'd never cry again if she could but the memories kept resurfacing and she felt extremely overwhelmed. Every time she closed her eyes, the terrified look in her mothers face as she fell through that hole appeared. And then she'd hear explosions and her screams ringing in her ears and, no matter what Dahlia tried **——** covering her ears, blasting music **——** nothing could drown out the horrible sounds.

Dahlia had told Pietro that he only felt guilty for robbing them because it was her dead mothers things when really, she was the guilty one. Some sick voice in the corner of her brain told her that it was her fault that they died, that if she'd done _anything_ different they wouldn't have died. She lost many, many nights of sleep to overthinking and analysing that day. _What if I had not done this? . . . or what if I did that instead. . . ?_ Any rational person would've told Dahlia it wasn't her fault but that's the thing, Dahlia wasn't exactly rational. Therapists would call it Survivors Guilt or PTSD but Dahlia thought of it more as _I-Don't-Deserve-To-Walk-This-Earth._

Dahlia didn't take _full blame_ for her parents death in her mind **——** only a quarter of it was her fault. Who had caused the other three quarters? The answer's simple: Tony Stark, the man who sold, designed and manufactured the bombs that had hit her apartment. Yema McDeen, Dahlias grandmother, says that revenge is fickle but Dahlia never listens to her anyway. She just knows that she'll be damned if she doesn't get to fulfil her mothers dying wish: revenge on Tony Stark. Sounds easy enough, right?

"Dahlia? Kto to bol? _[Dahlia? Who was that?]"_ Her grandmother **——** speak of the devil **——** called from the kitchen, the sound of clattering dishes accompanied her voice. Dahlia couldn't help frown, she had told her grandmother to take it easy and let her do all the housework instead. But alas, her grandmother was one stubborn woman. **(** as was Dahlia. **)** It was both women's stubbornness that always put such a strain on their relationship. Dahlia's grandmother, Yema McDeen was extremely old fashioned and superstitious whereas Dahlia was not. Their opposing outlooks on life meant that Dahlia rarely spoke to her grandmother in order to avoid stupid arguments. She yearned for her mother. Aurora McDeen was the kindest and most gentle woman, she could diffuse any heated situation by merely speaking a few soothing words.

"Nikto, babička. [ _Nobody, grandma.]_ " She called back, running a hand over the silky violet fabric of her mother's dress. She buried her face into the dress, inhaling deeply as she did so. More tears welled in her eyes; after all these years, it still smelt like her mother. It was one of the only things she'd recovered from their apartment that wasn't damaged. She hadn't even gotten any photos. . . A small part of her had worried that she'd forget what they'd looked like.

Thankfully, Wanda Maximoff had found a photo of Wanda, Pietro and their parents with Dahlia and her parents. The group was sitting around the Maximoff's kitchen table eating Paprikish **——** the Maximoff families' favourite dish. It seemed like another lifetime ago, everyone was smiling and laughing. The edges were slightly charred but Dahlia would forever be grateful to Wanda.

_Why can't Pietro be like Wanda? She's so nice and he's so. . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter about a year - maybe longer - ago and I think it is my least favourite chapter of any of my 'new' works. I promise, the book becomes less cringey after this chapter.


	3. Chapter Two - Petty As Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut & Minor Character Death!

**Chapter Two - Petty As Hell**

  


  


  


**_SWEAT BEADED DOWN DAHLIA'S_** forehead as she aggressively scrubbed the dirty dishes. She almost shoved a whole bowl of untouched salad in the sink **——** honestly, couldn't people eat their damn salad? They paid for the shit and it would make her life so much easier. But _no_ , now she has to scrape it into the bin and waste it while theirs people starving in Africa.

  


Across the kitchen the chef, Elodie called out her name. The raven-haired girls head shot up and she looked first at El and then in the direction she was pointing at. "McDeen, that couples been standing at the counter for about five minutes now, _go serve them_ before Susannah has another fit."

  


Dahlia nodded, agreeing that it was best not to piss their boss, Susannah, off again. **(** It was really not pretty last time and Dahlia would rather not go through that again. **)** Dropping her scourer into the soapy water, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked out the front to greet the customers. Her fake customer service smile faltered as she realised _who_ she was serving. God, she _knew_ she should've called in sick today.

  


"Dahlia McDeen?" The blonde girl said, tugging her tube top up for what had to the billionth time since she'd arrived. "I haven't seen you in like, years." She said, leaning into her. . . boyfriend? Date? Fuck-buddy? Dahlia averted her eyes elsewhere, unwanted memories resurfacing at this really inconvenient time.

  


Dahlia gave her a tight-lipped, friendly smile, "hi Imogen." The blonde beamed at the fact that Dahlia remembered her name. Deciding to hit the nail on the head, Dahlia looked over at Pietro who's been trying to catch her eye the whole time. "I didn't know you guys were dating," she says, quirking an eyebrow at him.

  


"Oh, we're not **——** " Pietro starts just as Imogen says that they're a _very_ _new couple._ Dahlia doesn't comment on how not-happy Pietro looks about that.

  


"Isn't that just _lovely_?" Dahlia says in a mock caring manner and Imogen mistakes her words as genuine ones because she smiles at her sweetly. **(** Dahlia kinda feels bad for the girl because she knows that Pietro's going to dump her soon. And Imogen is actually a really nice person and doesn't deserve that. **)** "Now, what can I get you two _love birds_?" She says, looking Pietro directing in the eye as she emphasises this statement. He gives her a sneer **(** after making sure Imogen wasn't looking, of course **)**.

  


Imogen dives into a deep and detailed rant about how _exactly_ her coffee _must_ be made. . . apparently she can sniff out even a single molecule of sugar but Dahlia didn't listen close enough, only writing down the important bits. She also orders a burger with a salad **——** Dahlia tries to stop her eye from twitching in annoyance. Then it's Pietro's turn to order.

  


"Same, and just get me a flat-white with almond milk or something, I'm **——** "

  


"Lactose-free? Yeah, I know." Dahlia mutters, writing ADD A SHIT-TONNE OF MILK under his coffee order. She tries not to smirk at herself, knowing that her alterations will definitely ruin their night.

  


Imogen looks between Dahlia and Pietro, her eyes narrowed a bit. "I never knew you guys were so close. . . I mean, I know you _were_ friends but. . ." She trailed off, twirling her blonde locks between her fingers.

  


"Us? Friends? Pfft no, our parents were but not us. . . not anymore," Dahlia said, almost wistfully before catching herself. She turned to Pietro, the fakest smile on her face, "isn't that right, _Pie_?" God, she hadn't called him by that nickname in years. She wonders if people even still call him that. . .

  


Pietro nods slowly, an unreadable look on his face as he stares at Dahlia. After a few seconds, he turns to Imogen for the first time since Dahlia had come out, "why don't you go pick a table and I'll pay?"

  


The blonde beams up at him, "you're the best," she cooed. Dahlia looks away as the short girl reaches up and kisses him right on the lips. She didn't see him stiffen and not kiss her back **——** not that Imogen even noticed though. "It was nice seeing you, Dahlia." She says before walking off to pick a table.

  


Dahlia smiles at her weakly before looking back at Pietro who's staring at her again. _Creep._ "That'll be $12.45," she says in a monotone, her eyes solely focused on the cash register screen in front of her.

  


Pietro rolls his eyes, "yeah, I'll pay after you take _add a shit-tonne of milk_ off of my order." He says defiantly and Dahlia lets out a frustrated huff.

  


'I don't know what you're talking about," she says, feigning innocence. She finally looks up, just not at him. Instead, she focuses on the people passing by the shop; she wouldn't give Pietro the satisfaction of having her full attention.

  


"You're not very slick, McDeen." He says, running a hand through his curly hair and Dahlia can't help but feel slightly entranced by it. She curses herself for even looking and averts her eyes back to outside the shop. _Oh look, Donna and Clive are back together. . ._

_  
_

"Neither are you, thief." She says, extending her hand out for the money as Pietro winces.

  


"Look, I really am sorry about that. I didn't even realise it was your grandma's house until it was too late, honest." He says, trying to get her to look into his stupidly entrancing blue eyes. Why couldn't he have some boring eye colour like green or brown? It'd make trying not to look at him a hell of a lot easier.

  


"Whatever. _$12.45, please._ " She says, stretching her extended hand out impatiently, "mustn't keep Imogen waiting, wouldn't want to mess up your date. It's funny, I didn't think you did those. Thought you were more of a 'make-out with a vulnerable girl every so often' kind of guy. . ." She trailed off, snatching the money off him as he jaw flew open. _She did not just go there._

_  
_

"Dahlia **——** " He said but was cut off by the loud sound of the bell ringing.

  


'I've got two fish and chips going to number 35 when you're done chatting up the customers." Elodie called out, placing two plates under the heat lamp with a knowing smirk. Dahlia actually wanted to strangle her at that moment. Shoving a receipt into Pietro's hand, she swiftly picked the two plates up and brushed past Pietro.

  


The brunette boy let out an exasperated sigh as he watches her. As his sister would say: _God, you're such a mess._ And he'll admit, Wanda had a fucking point.

  


─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

  


_WANDA MAXIMOFF AND DAHLIA MCDEEN_ , no matter what had gone down between that latter girl and the former girl's brother, were best friends. They had been since. . . well, birth probably. Neither hadn't any recollection of not being friends **——** well, there was that one time when they were eight and Dahlia accidentally dropped Wanda's barbie in the mud. That could've been the end of a beautiful friendship had Pietro not taken the fall for her. _That was before he turned into an asshole,_ Dahlia reminded herself.

  


Dahlia, a cup of ice-cream in her hand, laughed a crude joke Wanda made about this other set of twins she'd met today. " **——** and now I don't know which one I want to bang," she sighs dramatically. "Like, the sister is _so fucking hot_ but she looks like high maintenance. Her brother is also really hot but also _way_ out of my league."

  


"Hmmm, I see your pickle." Dahlia giggled, cringing as she ate a little too much ice-cream and got a sharp pain in her brain. _Stupid brain freezes ruining everything all the time. . ._

_  
_

Wanda sighs again before looking over at her friend, "so, what's been up with you?" She asked, licking her plastic spoon.

  


The ebony-haired girl shrugged, "not much? Your brother robbed me and I probably gave him diarrhoea. . ." She says nonchalantly.

  


Wanda almost chokes on her spoon, "he _what_?" She spluttered, holding a hand up to signal for them to stop walking let's. "Let's backtrack a bit; my brother _robbed you_?"

  


Dahlia took another spoonful of ice cream, "it's whatever, I told him off and shit _and_ probably ruined his night with Imogen King by spiking his coffee with full cream milk." She spoke so carelessly about it, making Wanda worry that her friend had been body-snatched or something. Dahlia was literally the queen of overreacting to things **——** rightfully so, in this case.

  


"I'm actually going to murder him **——** " She begins, clenching her fists. Had her brother not hurt Dahlia enough?

  


Dahlia cuts her off, "don't. It's not worth it, really."

  


Wanda wants to argue the point but knows she'll just end up upsetting her friend. Pietro was kind of a sore subject for Dahlia, Wanda knew she didn't like talking about him much. "Hmmm, I suppose I'll _maybe_ not murder him. . . for now."

  


Dahlia rolls her eyes, "you do that, Wan." She ran a hand through her dark hair which, after Wanda's nagging, she'd left out. Dahlia didn't enjoy having her hair out much, it just got in the way and was a giant knot by the end of the day. But Wanda doesn't get that because she has perfect fucking hair.

  


They kept walking down the old fashioned streets of Sokovia, politely avoiding people who recognised them. That's why they got on so well, they were both antisocial bitches.

  


"You _could_ come over and not make me endure eating dinner with Babička [Grandma] alone," Dahlia suggests as they near her street. She gives her friend a look which Wanda returns with an apologetic one.

  


"I'm sorry, Lia **——** I can't today, Pietro and I are having family night. AKA I destroy him at Monopoly and Uno before he storms off to his room and sulks like a little bitch." Wanda says, patting Dahlia's shoulder. "I'm sure your dinner won't be that bad, just don't engage."

  


"This is Yema McDeen we're talking about, she doesn't know the meaning of _don't engage_." Dahlia sighed, accepting the hug Wanda gave her.

  


Very hesitatingly, the Sokovian girl unlatched the front gate and walked up the front steps. "Babička, I'm home!" She called out, shutting the front door behind her.

  


"Dahlia? Is that you, child?" The elder woman called out from the living room. Dahlia rolled her eyes, of course, it was her —— who else would it be? _Pietro coming to loot the rest of their junk?_

_  
_

"I bought some Italian food 'cause I remembered it's your favourite." She says, placing the plastic bag on the kitchen table. As she empties its contents, her grandmother creeps into the kitchen slowly.

  


Yema sucks in a deep, happy breath. "I wish you could cook like this," she says blankly, not even bothering to thank Dahlia for dinner. The girls not even surprised by her grandmother's attitude anymore, she's lived with Yema for almost ten years now.

  


"I know, Babička." Dahlia sighs, grabbing some plates out of the cupboard. "How was your day?"

  


Yema grumbled under her breath in Sokovian, her voice too low for her to catch. After telling herself a whole ass speech, she turned to Dahlia. "Monica Ping came over practically crying," she says grumpily as she tears open a plastic container of pasta. "Apparently young Rico ran away to become a lab rat and to think I always thought he was a bright boy. Hell, I'd always hoped he'd take a liking to you. . ." She trailed off, looking at her granddaughter up and down, wearing a look of disapproval.

  


"Ran off. . . to become a lab rat? What do you mean, Babička?" Dahlia asked, frowning. An image of a red-haired boy with thousands of freckles came to mind; Nico Ping. They used to go to school together and she could not remember him once taking an interest in science.

  


Yema cleated her throat. "Ah, you haven't heard then?" Dahlia shook her head, confused. "Well, _apparently_ there's these men who are promising to give people magic powers in exchange for some favour **——** something to do with that rotten _Tony Stark_." Dahlia frowned at that name, an image of his business' logo on a bomb coming to mind. "Anyways, it's all a load of devil-worshipping rubbish and I don't want you to bring it up again, got it?"

  


Dahlia wanted to remind her grandmother that she was the one who had brought it up but she didn't have the energy. So, she sat and nodded at the right times as her grandmother droned on and on about her silly superstitions. She'd even made Dahlia promise not to even _think_ about letting those mad scientists near her; "you hear me, Missy? You're not going to run away to join the devil-worshipping cult that they're starting." Dahlia nodded half-heartedly, all she wanted was to go to bed. "That's not good enough, I want you to _promise me_ you won't do it."

  


"I promise," she said, standing up to clear the table off. "That I won't join a devil-worshipping cult **——** are demon-worshipping ones on the table, though. . . ?"

  


"Dahlia." Her grandmother warned, glaring at the adult-but-still-sort-of-a-teenager sharply.

  


─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

  


_HERE'S THE THING ABOUT SOKOVIA:_ it was a pretty well-knit community. Translation: everyone knew everyone else's business before they even knew their own business. **(** _Oh? Tara cheated on her husband again? Yeah, Agatha from Denver lane told Martha who told Carol who told me. . ._ **——** an actual conversation Dahlia had overheard in a supermarket once. And the sad part is she knew exactly who these women were talking about. **)** So, it wasn't much of a shock to Dahlia when the talk about those "devil-worshipping scientists" spread like wildfire **(** or disease as Yema liked to compare it to **)**.

  


Dahlia'll be honest, the thought of getting superpowers sounded pretty fucking cool to her. She knows, she knows, she's promised Yema that she won't even consider it but she's nineteen **——** it's about time she went through her rebellious phase. Nobody had yet to return with these powers and by now half of Dahlia's old school friends had left to do it. Just yesterday she saw a mother begging her daughter not to run away with her boyfriend to trial these experiments.

  


Wanda and Dahlia, along with their other friend Holliday **——** or Holli as she preferred **——** Opal, sat at a table in the park. Children were running around, chasing each other in the distance. Watching them laugh and be carefree made Dahlia nostalgic. It made her think of the days when Wanda, Holli and Dahlia used to run around being idiots.

  


Holli and Wanda were raving about some new band they'd just discovered **——** Hey Violet. Apparently the lead singer was hot? Dahlia wasn't paying much attention to catch all the details.

  


" **——** I mean, it sounds cool in theory?" Dahlia heard Holli say, shrugging.

  


"Wait, what are we talking about," Dahlia asks, suddenly tuning back into their conversation.

  


"Wanda **——** and her brother, apparently **——** wants to get experimented on by that Dr. List guy." Holli says, frowning at their friend, "tell her it's a stupid idea."

  


"You know, Holli, I don't need your permission." Wanda glares at her but Holli doesn't flinch.

  


"I never said you did but, I'm saying you should take my opinion into consideration; it's a stupid idea and you'll end up dead," Holli says, uncapping her water and taking a large gulp from it.

  


"Actually," Dahlia says, "I've actually been thinking about going, too." She says and Holli almost chokes on her water.

  


"Not you too." She grumbles, wiping the spilt water off her face. "Did you not hear me say you'll die?"

  


"But what if we don't?" Wanda counters, her brown hair flowing in the wind. Dahlia thought Wanda belonged in a hair commercial at that moment but that's besides the point, she thinks.

  


"I can't with you both," Holli says, standing up and collecting her things. "I'll talk to you guys again when you're making rash decisions, 'kay?"

  


"Yeah, don't hold your breath on that." Wanda calls out as Holli's already halfway across the park by now. The red-haired girl merely stuck her finger up behind her, making a couple of mothers gasp.

  


Dahlia couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "you're so gay for her." She pointed out and Wanda's face turned red and she stared down at the table.

  


"No I'm not, do you not remember the hot twins I told you about?" Wanda replied, avoiding her friends eye contact.

  


Dahlia nodded, obviously pretending to agree. That made Wanda glare at her. "Whatever, are you serious about the experiment thing?" Dahlia asks her friend and Wanda's glare is replaced with a thoughtful look.

  


"Were you?" She asks.

  


Dahlia considers for a second before nodding, "yeah, I think I was."

  


Wanda raises her water bottle and Dahlia does the same and they hit them together, "here's to making dumb life decisions!"

  


Maybe Dahlia hadn't thought this through as much as she'd originally thought she had. As soon as she walked into the door, Yema was sitting there waiting for her. "You idiot girl." She said immediately, her wrinkled face sculpted into an angry look.

  


"I'm sorry?" Dahlia frowns deeply as she hangs her coat up. She tries to rack her brain for things she might've done **(** or not done **)** to piss her grandmother off. Nothing comes to mind.

  


"So you should be." Yema says, still staring at her granddaughter with a look of betrayal. "You _promised me_ that you wouldn't even consider it and now I hear from Shelby Opal of all people that you're actually going to do it."

  


The realisation sinks in. _Holliday, you fucking rat_ ** _——_** "So what if I am? Last time I checked: I'm an adult and this is my life." She says, pouting at her grandmother.

  


The older woman doesn't back down, "would you really leave me to die here alone while you go die. . . surrounded by devil worshippers! Your soul will be damned forever!" Dahlia wants to scream and tell her that she's already dammed **——** what's the worst a little more damning will do?

  


"I'm not going to die and neither are you!" Dahlia shouted instead, running a frustrated hand through her ebony locks.

  


And then, right in that moment, Yema McDeen did in fact die.

  


Just another traumatic event for Dahlia to add to the list. She let out a high pitched scream as Yema keeled over, her frail body lifeless. It took Dahlia's body a few minutes to react. "Oh my god **——** Babička!" She cried, rolling her body over to look at her face. Her limbs had gone limp and her eyes were stared without seeing. "SOMEBODY HELP!" She wailed, sobbing onto her grandmother's chest.

  


An ambulance arrived about fifteen minutes later. Dahlia's whole being shook as she watched her grandmother **——** inside a boy bag **——** be rolled out of their house. "I'm so sorry for your loss." Said the responding police officer, giving her a kind pat on the shoulder.

  


Dahlia didn't even feel him touch her **——** she didn't feel anything. Shaking him off of her, Dahlia turned and sprinted down the street. She needed to get out of here and she needed to do it now.

  


It took only ten minutes for her to be standing in front of apartment 106. Wiping her eyes, she rapped her knuckles against the door loudly. It only took a few seconds for the door to swing open. "Dahlia? It's almost midnight, what are you doing here? Wanda's not even home tonight. . ." said a dishevelled Pietro, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He's only wearing boxers. Dahlia vaguely remembered Wanda wanting to go see one of the twins **——** no idea which one, though.

  


"That's fine, I didn't want to see her anyways," Dahlia said and Pietro raised an eyebrow. Before he could comment, Dahlia was pulling his face down to meet hers. His eyes widened in shock but he quickly kissed her back, his arms found their way around her slim waist. No matter how much Pietro wanted this, he knew something was wrong. This wasn't like Dahlia.

  


Pietro pulled back, "Dahlia, this isn't you. . . has something happened? Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes filled with so much concern and worry. Dahlia looked away from him, shaking her head as she wiped her eyes.

  


"Don't make me talk about it." She whispered, voice breaking. "Just. . . do this for me, please."

  


Pietro's blue eyes held so much emotion as he stared at Dahlia. The brunette girl took his staring and silence as an opening and wrapped her arms around his neck again. He let out a low, involuntary moan as she attached her lips back to his. Every fibre of his being screamed that this was wrong but at the same time, every fibre of his being told him this was so right **——** that they were, together he means.

  


Before he knows it, they're on his bed and he's kissing her like he's never kissed anyone in his life. Her fingers are tangled in his curly hair and her legs are wrapped tightly around his muscular torso. One of her hands moves from his hair to his chest, he shivers under her touch. She traces his muscles in a slow, teasing manner. His own hands do a bit of wandering, finding her bra strap under her top. When she doesn't do anything except continue to feel his chest up, he undoes the bra with one hand **——** hey, he's got experience. Dahlia greedily pulls him down closer to her, if that's even possible. Bored with his chest, Dahlia's fingers trail across the waistband of Pietro's boxers. He could already feel himself growing hard from just a simple touch by her.

  


In one swift motion, Dahlia tossed her bra and T-shirt onto the floor. Through the darkness, Pietro admired her half-naked appearance **——** oh, how he'd dreamt of this moment and finally. . . "Dahlia, you're not thinking straight, I'm not **——** "

  


She silences him with another kiss, her impatience was growing. "If you're not interested," she whispered pulling away, watching as he looked at her longingly, "I'll be more than fine with going to find someone else. . ." she trailed off and Pietro's eyes blazed with a mix of so many emotions, Dahlia couldn't even list them all. She quirked a brow at him as his breathing intensified. Her hands slid across the space between them, finally finding what she was looking for.

  


She watched his eyes roll back and heard him moan at her touch. Suddenly, Pietro couldn't take it anymore. Flipping her on her back, tore her pants and underwear off. "That's more like it. . ." she muttered, drawing him in for another kiss. He pulled back, only to take his own boxers off and grab a condom.

  


She moaned as he kissed her neck, "are **——** " kiss, "you **——** " another kiss, "sure?"

  


She didn't answer, instead, moving to capture his lips with hers. "Ask me again, I dare you." She grumbled as he pulled back, readying himself to go in. She squeezed her eyes shut as he slowly but surely slid in. It felt like her whole body was ablaze now, burning with passion, emotion and a crap-tonne of lust. Her nails dug into his back as he found a steady rhythm. And then, after god knows how long, he started to get sloppy and lose said rhythm. At almost the same time, they both fell over the edge. Both their breathing was heavy as Pietro fell down beside her. Before he could say a word, Dahlia rolled over and fell asleep on his chest.

  


She didn't dream which was a foreign concept to her. She was used to the million nightmares that usually haunted her sleep. But tonight, it was just darkness **——** she definitely preferred it to what she usually got.

  


The first thing she thought when she woke up was that she hurt like hell **——** mentally and physically. It took a few moments for the memories of the previous day to come back to her. But when she did, she shot up from the bed and quickly gathered her clothes. She prayed to whatever god there was that Pietro didn't wake up. Finally dressed, she found a pen and paper.

  


_Last night was a mistake, pretend like it didn't happen, alright? And please, for the love of God, don't tell anyone. —— D.Mc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the temptation to rewrite sections of this book is eating away at me but I don't wanna change this too much from the Wattpad version... idk we'll see how I feel when I have uploaded the whole story on here.


	4. Chapter Three - Turbo and The Avatar

Chapter Three - Turbo and The Avatar 

**_ABOUT TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED_** since Dahlia spent the night with Pietro. To say she felt like absolute shit was kind of an understatement, really. She had to be at an all-time low. For starters, the nightmares were back again, worse than before. Now she could barely close her eyes without _some_ haunting image appearing.

Her grandmothers funeral came and went quickly, Dahlia was barely able to drag herself out of bed for two days after it. The guilt/grief was going to eat her up for ages, she already knew it. When the autopsy had come back, it was apparent that Yema McDeen had died from a stress-induced heart attack. . . hmmm, wonder what caused that, huh? Perhaps her granddaughter planning to leave her for some freaky experiments would do the trick? With the guilt of Yema's death now on her hands **——** as well as the decade-old guilt of her parent's death **——** it was a wonder Dahlia was able to recover. **(** Really, this girl really ought to be seeing a shrink or something. **)**

It was the day Wanda had told her that her and Pietro, whom Dahlia had been avoiding like the fucking _bubonic plague_ or something, were leaving. After telling Susannah to shove her stupid job up her fat ass and, then politely quitting her other job **(** "Sorry, Midge, I love stacking shelves and all but I've got bigger fish to fry now **——** " "You're working at the fish bar, now. . . ?" "What? No **——** " **)** , Not to quote Shawn Mendes or anything but Dahlia had nothing holding her back. Shoving some essentials into a backpack, Dahlia walked out of her grandma's house, knowing full well she'll never have the stomach to be able to go back. There was just too many painful memories there.

She almost missed them walking around the corner, away from their apartment complex. **(** Side note: Dahlia has no idea how they can live in an apartment building. Going up the stairs to see Pietro gave her about ten billion flashbacks. **)** "Hey!" She called out and they both looked over their shoulders at her, "slow down, Maximoff."

A grin spread across Wanda's lips as her best friend caught up to them. "I didn't think you'd still be game," Wanda said earnestly, "w **——** with everything that happened and all. . ."

Slinging an arm around her friends shoulder, Dahlia shrugged. "I think," she looks at Pietro momentarily before quickly looking away when she sees he's already starting at her, "that this will be the perfect distraction, actually."

Wanda stared at her for a moment before nodding, "well, I'm glad to have you here, Lia."

Dahlia stuck right near Wanda **——** who walked way too fast for someone in high-heeled boots **——** because she knew Pietro would try and talk about _that night_ if he was alone with her. She just wanted to forget it ever happened. She didn't want to answer dumb questions like, _what does this mean for us?_ or something pretentious along those lines. Because she already has an answer that she knows Pietro will hate: It meant nothing to her. It was just one night that she deeply regrets; nothing more and, nothing less.

"Hey, Wanda?" Pietro called from behind them, "can you loosen Dahlia's leash for a minute? I want to talk to her about. . . some things." He said and Dahlia wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth. Can he not see she _doesn't_ want to talk about _those things_? Has she not made it blatantly obvious? Should she make a fucking banner **——**?

Wanda looked between the pair, very much confused as to what they could possibly need to talk about. Still, she shrugged and walked ahead, "whatever, I'm going to try Holli **——** " **(** "Your girlfriend." Pietro cut in, smirking. **)** " **——** again." Wanda finished, glaring at her twin. "She is _not_." The girl muttered, pulling her phone out and striding off.

Pietro didn't say anything until Wanda was well and truly out of ear-shot. "Dahlia, we need to talk about that night." He said right off the bat, running a nervous hand through his messy hair. It was a rare sight; Pietro fucking Maximoff getting nervous around a girl. If Dahlia wasn't annoyed she'd take try and film this.

Dahlia shook her head, "no, Pietro, we don't need to talk about anything. I told you what was what on my note and I stand by that. It was a _mistake_ and I don't even want to think about it, okay?" She said, her voice assertive and a bit harsh. The wind blew her hair into her face, making her face unclear but still goddess-like? How was that even possible. . . ?

Pietro's expression was a mix between so many emotions; pain, frustration, longing, hurt. After a few moments of tense and awkward silence, Pietro cleared his throat. "Fine. If that's how you feel then fine." He said, staring at his feet. Emotions swirled around in his brain and he just wanted to turn them all off. God, he should've known that she **——** them **——** was too good to be true. Still, it stung.

"Besides," Dahlia says, elbowing him in what was supposed to be a playful manner, "aren't you and Imogen together?"

Pietro rolled his eyes, "please, that ended ages ago." He said, _I ended it as soon as you left. . ._

"Oh." She muttered, the sound of approaching footsteps made her look up. Wanda, accompanied by a sour look, was approaching.

"So, there's good news and there's bad news," Wanda stated.

"Bad news first, I think," Dahlia replied, stepping away from Pietro. She knew that he was upset with her but hey, he could've easily declined her. She was vulnerable and he let it go that far.

Pietro nodded, his gaze still lingered on the pretty raven-haired girl. It was a wonder someone else hadn't swooped in and captured her heart. He thought she was the most beautiful girl to walk the earth, ever. With her dead straight, hair that was as dark as the night itself. And then her beautiful eyes; Dahlia may think they're plain brown but he thought they were mesmerising. He could stare at her, picking out every little part he found beautiful, for ages.

'Well, the bad news is that Holli hung up on me before I could say anything." Wanda huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

". . . What's the _good news_?" Pietro asks after a moment of silence for Wanda's love life.

The brunette girl's eyes light up as she remembered, "the Fortress **——** apparently that's what they're calling it **——** is just around this bend." Wanda explained, grabbing Dahlia and Pietro by the hand and tugging them along. Dahlia felt guilt erupt in her stomach again, remembering how much her grandma had disapproved, selfishly Dahlia ignored the feeling. Yema wasn't here anymore.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

_A SHARP, THORN-LIKE NEEDLE_ dug into her arm, tunnelling it's way through the flesh and skin. Soon, hundreds of other needles joined it, hungrily searching for some untouched flesh to mutilate. She couldn't move, the straps holding her down were strong and the gag prevented her from even screaming. Every time a new needle found its way under her skin, she felt like she was being set on fire. They couldn't stop the tears from spilling out the corners of her eyes though and there was a lot.

And then, with a sudden jolt, Dahlia McDeen was awake. She felt like a disorientated piece of shit. It took her a few seconds to register where she was and when she did, she sighed loudly. Sure, that had been just a dream but it was based off reality and right now, reality sucked.

She took in the familiar dirty stone walls that surrounded her in all directions **——** except for where the fibre optic glass door was, of course. The only thing inside of her cell was her and a rickety old cot. It was a miserable little place, that's for sure.

"You're awake. . . ?" A voice asked from next door, sounding genuinely worried about her well-being. "A **——** are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep again."

Dahlia wrapped her arms around her legs, forming the fetal position. "Yeah," she said meekly, "I'm fine, really. Nothing I can't handle."

"Are you sure?" They persisted, "you know that I'll always be here for you, Dahlia." He said and for a second Dahlia let her heart be warmed by his words.

"Maximoff, I swear to god if you don't drop it. . ." She trailed off. "Has Wanda left already?" She asked suddenly.

He nodded before quickly realising she couldn't see him. "Yeah, she left like an hour ago to get another treatment." He says, a bitter edge to the word 'treatment'. Dahlia knew what he meant, the treatments were horrible and they are the only ones not to die doing them.

"Oh." Dahlia muttered, picking some grime out from under her nails.

Before Pietro could answer, there was a knock on her cell door and one of the guards stood there, two bowls of cold rice in hand. "Dinner," he said through his heavy Russian accent. "Stay where you are." This was a regular procedure. A guard would order them to not move as they delivered their meals. It was a safety precaution apparently, in case someone's powers manifested mid-visit. Dahlia watched boredly as he placed the white bowl on the ground and then quickly scampered out of her cell. Only when it was locked did Dahlia finally move.

She swiftly picked the bowl off the ground and started shovelling it in her mouth. The cold and soggy texture was disappointing as usual but she wouldn't complain; food is food. Though, she _did_ wish it could heat up a bit. . . And then, out of _nowhere_ her bowls on fire.

Dahlia threw it across the cell as she let out a sharp scream. She watched as the bowl smashed and the flames spread. "FUCKING HELP ME!" She shrieked, backing up into the corner as the guard cane running back around the corner.

His grey eyes widened as he saw the growing flames, quickly grabbing the fire extinguisher he unlocked her cell and began putting it out. Meanwhile, Pietro was demanding to know what was going on **——** nobody answered him though. "What. Did. You. Do?" The Russian guard asked once the fire was out.

Dahlia raised her hands up in surrender, "I don't know!" She cried. The guards eyes widened as he stared at her hand. It took the brunette a few seconds to notice but once she did, she let out another shriek. "Oh _my god_! How do I make it stop?" She held her flaming hand as far away from her body as she could.

"Here, I'll try this," he responded, holding up the fire extinguisher shakily. Dahlia flinched as he squirted the contents at her hand. Relief filled her as the fire was put out. She inspected her hand closely, there was not a single burn on it. "Incredible. . ." he muttered, looking over her shoulder at her hand, "I must tell the boss **——** I'll leave this here for you. . ." he said, rushing to the door and placing the fire extinguisher down for her to use it necessary.

After a few seconds of standing there in shock, Pietro cleared his throat loudly. "Okay, what the fuck just happened?"

"I. . . My powers. . ." She says, still in shock.

And then more weeks passed and soon Pietro could move at the speed of light **(** plus, his hair was turning white as a side effect **——** and before anyone asks, it doesn't make him more attractive. Nope. Not at all. **)** he also had really fast healing, Dahlia had noticed. He'd broken his arm by running it his cell wall, only to have it healed by dinnertime. Wanda though, seemed to be the late bloomer of the trio. Dahlia could see how much it was upsetting the brunette girl especially when Dahlia's powers continued to grow. Yeah, that's right, Dahlia could so far control fire, water and air **——** she hasn't had the opportunity to try with earth yet. Strucker and List are very pleased with her, saying she'll be wonderful for their cause. She can't help but feel really proud of herself. Dahlia can set things on fire by touching them, she can manipulate water and she can make blocks in air **——** it's so fucking cool! But still, se doesn't like showing off near Wanda who can't do anything except feel left out.

"Don't worry, Wan, they'll manifest soon." Dahlia was sprawled out on her uncomfortable bed, watching as the bright orange flames danced around her fingers. She thinks it won't ever not mesmerise her that she can do _that_ without gaining third-degree burns or something.

Wanda sighed in annoyance, "I don't know, what if they don't, Lia? What if I just stay boring and normal while you both become badass's?"

"First of all, you're literally the most badass person I know so, shut up." Dahlia said, sitting up and glaring at the wall Wanda was behind, "secondly, they will come, just be patient and _thirdly_ , if they don't come **——** even though they will **——** you could go back to your wife, Holli **——** "

"Oh, shut up." Wanda grumbled. "We're just friends, same as you and me."

"Did you just friend zone me? I'm offended." Dahlia joked.

"Get a room." Pietro joked from his cell on the other side of Dahlia. He'd become tolerable during this experience, obviously accepting that nothings going to happen between them.

Dahlia rolled her eyes, "I already have one, stupid." She said lamely.

"Oof, your insults wound me, Avatar," Pietro said in mock offence and Dahlia groaned.

"Oh, not this again." She grumbled. After Dahlia's powers starting mirroring the ones from the anime, Pietro thought it was only fitting that he call her that. "I've told you not to call me that, _Turbo_."

"Oh but you can call me an orange snail? At least you're still a human being." He grumbled. They continued bickering and once again, Wanda felt like the third wheel. God, why are they so stubborn? Sitting on her bed cross-legged, she tries to imagine what they're thinking right now. But out of the blue, she starts hearing their voices like a crackly radio. Confused, Wanda can still hear them bickering but she can also hear them say other stuff?

_God, he's so infuriating. . ._ She hears Dahlia say. _But also. . . no, don't think that kind of shit! Do not succumb, Dahlia!_

_I wish there wasn't a wall. . . I really wanna see her getting all hot and bothered._ Pietro adds and Wanda gags, her brother is disgusting sometimes. _But she hates me._ He adds sadly and Wanda's heart aches for him. But also. . . what the fuck is happening?

Wanda's confused though, she's sure they're not actually saying these things because if they did. . . they'd be having a slightly different conversation right now. But Dahlia didn't seem to have heard Pietro saying dirty things about her nor had Pietro heard her insult him.

And then it hits her, she's reading their minds! _Oh my god. . ._ "Guys," Wanda says but they don't hear her, they're still arguing, "guys!"

—— _an egoistical little fuck who just wants to get in my pants again—— wait, Wanda?_ "You okay, Wan?" Dahlia calls out.

"It's starting. . . you were right." Wanda says slowly.

Dahlias eyes widened, "wait, really? Oh, my god, Wanda! This is awesome! What did you do?" She says in a rush, clapping her hands together happily.

'I. . . can hear your thoughts," Wanda says slowly, listening for Dahlia and Pietro's mental reactions.

_She can hear my. . . ? Uhm, hi Wanda if you're listening._ Wanda laughs at her friends thought.

D _on't think about Dahlia naked. Don't think about Dahlia naked. Don't think about Dahlia naked. Don't think about_ ** _——_** "Ew, Pietro, you're disgusting!" Wanda says, trying to block out the images of Dahlia that surfaced in her brother's mind. "How did you even **——** oh. . ." The memory plays in Pietro's mind even though he's trying to push it _away so his sister doesn't have to see. Dahlia showing up at midnight. . . Dahlia kissing Pietro. . . Dahlia and Pietro doing the deed. . . Dahlia looking so peaceful as she slept_ **——** Jesus, is that _all_ Pietro thinks about? "You guys. . . oh. . . okay. . ."

"What? What'd Pietro show you?" Dahlia asks, frowning at the wall.

Nobody answered her at first. "My sister now knows about the night we shared together," Pietro said smoothly, awaiting the angry response Dahlia was about to give.

_For fuck's sake!_ "Oh, Wanda that was nothing **——** a stupid mistake that I regret deeply," Dahlia said quickly, trying to get her dignity back.

"Gee, thanks," Pietro muttered, Wanda hears the bitter thoughts swirl around in his mind.

After reading her thoughts some more, Wanda knew a lot about how Dahlia really felt. Yes, she did regret that night but there was something else . . . Ugh, she felt horrible for going through her friend's mind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

_NOW THAT ALL THREE HAD POWERS_ , Strucker thought it was time for them to start practising them. So, everyday at exactly nine in the morning he sent them out **(** followed by six armed guards. **)** to train. Since starting these sessions, everyone's powers had grown even more advanced. Pietro's hair was almost completely silver now, except for his roots which were still brown. He'd gotten a better handle on his abilities, finally learning not to crash into things as he ran. Dahlia could now manipulate the earth as everyone had predicted though, it was the element she was least confident in. Now, Wanda's abilities were a little more hard to explain. Her abilities were very much mental, Strucker described her powers as chaotic and it was true. Wanda could cause absolute chaos if she really wanted to **——** it was a scary thought.

They stood in their usual clearing, taking no notice of the guards standing at the edges with their guns loaded in case they did something bad. Dahlia had been practising making mounds of dirt appear when she saw a blur knock her and mess up her concentration. Then suddenly all dirt was falling over her and Pietro was standing next a wide-eyed Wanda as he whistled innocently. "What the hell?" She yelled angrily, spinning around to glare at him.

He looked up, trying not to smirk, "hm?" He raised a brow, his eyes scanning her dirt-covered face. "You got some dirt in your hair." He grinned. Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, wiping dirt out of her hair. For a split second, she allowed him to touch her tenderly but then she remembered he was the reason she was covered in fucking dirt in the first place. Jerking back, she pushed him away from her.

"You fucking dick!"

Ignoring them, Wanda began trying to lift the pair up as they bickered. Both the pair's eyes blazed with intense emotion, the kind Wanda wished someone would look at her with. Her red magic slowly slithered around them and they took no notice. In the corner of her eye, she saw the guards tense up, one of their fingers trailing on the trigger. Slowly, she began willing her mind to lift them up. It wasn't until they were one centimetre above the ground that they noticed.

"Oh god **——** Wanda put us down!" Dahlia said, her eyes wide as she watched the red magic flow around her. They felt as if gravity had been turned off. Her long hair floated around her as if it weighed nothing making her seem like some ethereal being.

Wanda grinned as she let them fall the minuscule distance. "That was awesome, Wanda. When did you figure out that you could do that?" Dahlia asked, staring her own hands. She wondered if she could lift others too.

Wanda shrugged, "I was just thinking about it last night after you floated yesterday and was practising with my pillow. . ."

'Nice. . ." Dahlia said, trailing off.

" _Report to your stations immediately_!"A voice-over one of the guard's radio shouted, "This is not a drill. We are under attack! We are under attack!" Quickly, the group of nine rushed up to the fortress.

" **——** who gave the orders to attack?" Strucker demanded, glaring at one of his soldiers causing the man to gulp. Dahlia, Pietro and Wanda had just arrived and were watching everything happen with confused **——** and concerned **——** looks. Dahlia wanted to ask if there was something she could do to help but she also didn't want to ask? She weird like that. . .

"Strucker, it's The Avengers!" A soldier said, his voice full of panic. "They landed in the far woods, the perimeter guard panicked." The three young adults shared a look as they listened in on the conversation.

Strucker turned to Dr. List, "They have to be after the scepter," he mumbled before turning back to his soldier. "Can we hold them?"

'They're The Avengers!" The panicked soldier fired back, the colour draining from his face as Struckers eyes narrowed. _At this moment: he knew he fucked up_ , Dahlia thinks and she shares a smirk with Wanda who obviously heard her thoughts.

"Deploy the rest of the tanks," Stucker told him and the soldier obliged, Dahlia noticed his arm shook violently as he ran. She almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_.

"Concentrate fire on the weak ones. A hit can make them close ranks." Strucker ordered, looking into one of the monitors. "Everything we've accomplished. But we're on the verge of our greatest breakthrough."

'Then show them what we've accomplished." Doctor List said, glancing at Dahlia, Pietro and Wanda. "Send out the trio."

"It's too soon," Strucker argued, he did not trust the trio of magical teenagers just yet. He needed them to prove their allegiance in a more. . . _controlled_ environment.

Doctor List frowned, "but it's what they signed up for." He argued, crossing his arms across his chest and looking over at them. Quickly, they all pretended to not be listening.

Meanwhile, Pietro sized the two girls up, he was sure he could easily carry them both. And if he had to get rid of some deadweight, well he could easily 'drop' Dahlia. Yet, knew he wouldn't because he'd take any opportunity to be close to her again.

"My men can handle them," Strucker assured the doctor. "We will not yield. The Americans sent their circus freaks to test us. We will send them back in bags. No Surrender!" They watched as the rest of the crew mimicked him, saluting dramatically as if they're Nazi's or something. Dahlia wants to remind them that this isn't the 1940's, nobody salutes that way anymore **——** it's politically incorrect, actually.

"Hold on tight," Pietro mumbled, wrapping an arm around both their waists, his arm little bit tighter and lower on Dahlia's . The girl did not notice though. Wanda did and she tried to look him in the eye.

"Great," Dahlia mumbled as she tightened her grip on him. Their height differences meant that if she hung off his neck, her legs would be suspended mid air. **(** She was also very impressed that Pietro could carry them both with such ease **——** must be another perk from his powers. **)**

"Please aim all vomit that way," Pietro joked, pointing at the arguing allies. Before Dahlia could respond sarcastically, they zoomed out of the room. She watched in awe as the world blurred by. He placed Wanda at an entryway before grabbing onto Dahlia with both hands now. He held her a lot closer than before. Pietro could barely focus on the path in front of him, all he could look at was Dahlia's flowing hair. It sure was a sight to be seen. _She_ was a sight to behold. . . Er, not that _he_ thought that. . . he'd just heard others say it and **——** who's he kidding here? What's the point of denying this feeling anymore? If he could fully accept it then maybe he could move on, not that he wanted to move on though.

"Stop." She mumbled and he obliged. "You get that guy over there and I'll work on the big one." She said pointing to Clint Barton and then to The Hulk.

Pietro nodded before speeding over at Clint, knocking him off his feet. "What? You didn't see that coming?" He taunted at the man lying on his back. Dahlia couldn't help but roll her eyes before creating a hole in front of The Hulk. Unfortunately, he just jumped over and began smashing a tank. Quickly, she created another hole in front of him but again, he evaded it and it annoyed Dahlia.

"Where are these holes coming from?" Steve Rogers demanded, he was in his full Captain America getup. The costume gave Dahlia a headache. Before he could say anything else, Pietro knocked him off his feet. "We have an enhanced in the field!" He said, standing back up.

"Are you even trying?" Pietro joked, speeding beside her. Dahlia wished she could bury _him_ alive at the moment. Perhaps during their next training session. . .

As if to spite him, she used the wind to knock Natasha Romanoff over as she attended to Clint's wound. "What was _that_?" She demanded, crawling back over to Clint.

"We should go before you get shot," Pietro mumbled, throwing her over his shoulder before she could respond.

"Nenávidím ťa. [ _I hate you._ ]" She mumbled under her breathe as he sped back to the fortress.

They found Wanda, who is watching Tony Stark take the sceptre. "We're just going to let him take it?" Dahlia asked. Wanda smiled to herself as Tony walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wattpad version of this has 25 spaces before each line for aEsThEtiC pUrPoSeS and it is so frustrating to delete.

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading everything on here makes me realise how bad I am at updating...


End file.
